Cameron Lake is about a 40 minute drive up the canyon from the Waterton townsite, along the Akamina Parkway. The primary reason for visiting is the boating, as you can rent canoes, sailboats and pedal boats, and some visitors bring their own.
We spent about an hour paddling along the western shore of Cameron Lake, ten minutes of which was probably spent in futile efforts to compose the perfect selfie. It turns out getting all four of us in the frame while including the magnificent mountain as a backdrop without tipping the canoe was a bit beyond our means. Audrey did manage to get a good shot of the four of us though, and the one I took of the three of them is one of my favourites from the entire trip. The lake actually straddles the border with the U.S., so our backdrop of Mount Custer is actually in Montana.
Even Nitti, ever the diligent traveller, was at ease during our brief time on the water.
We were warned to stay clear of the ice overhangs on the south shore, but we were only two thirds of the way across when we decided to head towards the centre and then circle back. It was a fiercely bright day, but the breeze across the lake was cool and refreshing, and we had all slathered on plenty of sunscreen before departing.
Fenya got a fair bit of canoeing in at Camp Wohelo last summer, and Glory is always game for new things, so we had a great time on the lake, even with the lack of coordination in our efforts.
After returning our canoe, and for reasons that defy understanding, the girls decided they wanted to take a refreshing dip in this alpine lake. My schedule has no room for a myocardial infarction so far from a hospital, and besides, I had 50 issues of Airboy comics on my iPad that weren't going to read themselves. Audrey also had a book she wanted to finish, so we dutifully lugged our camp chairs and some snacks over to a spot on the north shore that was shallow enough to hopefully have warmed up a bit, but had some trees around to shade pasty folk like myself.
After changing into their swimsuits, they entered the water gamely enough, but were understandably trepidatious about submerging themselves past the waist.
Even this was accomplished eventually however, but not without the requisite amount of squealing resistance.
(They stopped stocking the lake back in the seventies, and I saw no fish while I we were actually on the water, but tell me that isn't a trout jumping up behind Fenya after she finally gets her head in the water,)
I was pretty impressed at the girls' persistent efforts to overcome the cold, and it certainly perked them up in the wake of a relentless sun, but they couldn't last too long, and soon enough came to shore for some cheese curds and pepperoni sticks.
After some quiet time on the shore to dry off, we packed up and headed back to town, where we dropped the girls off at the campsite, and Audrey and I walked into town to see if we could find a pub to watch the Netherlands - Argentina semi-final to the World Cup.
We were soon ensconced in the Fireside Lounge with at least a dozen Oranje supporters, drinking a pitcher of sangria and nibbling on the house bison platter, but were crestfallen to see Holland leave the tournament due to a poor showing in the penalty shootout. Still, a great effort by the Dutch side, and a wonderful way to stay out of the heat.
After dinner, we decided to do the same thing we had done the night before, and take the road to Red Rock Canyon at dusk to see if we could spot any wildlife, but I will save the animal tales for my final post.